I was asked to speak at an event this past weekend at Wittenberg University in Springfield, OH, just up the road from Cedarville. The topic was the relationship between my faith and my vote. I was given ten minutes to present my reasons. I am including them here.

Mark Caleb Smith, Ph.D. Cedarville University

Comments to Faith and Politics Forum Wittenberg University October 26, 2008

I am humbled to be here this afternoon, speaking about a topic that is overwhelming all others, one that is marching toward what seems an inevitable conclusion. Yes, I am here to speak about the condition of Ohio State football and the reality, it seems, for the first time in years the Buckeyes will not play for the national championship. As a fan and graduate of one of those southern schools, I cannot say I am disappointed, but I hope you will not hold that against me.

I would like to thank Dr. Percicepe for his invitation to speak to you this afternoon. When he called to ask me to discuss my faith and how it relates to my support for McCain, I expressed some chagrin. Most people, though I am sure Dr. Percicepe is not one of them, assume there is a bright line that exists, connecting faith to political outcomes, particularly for conservative Christians. The expected argument is: I am a Christian, therefore, I am a Republican. Being a Republican, naturally, should yield an undying love for John McCain. While I am here to explain why I will vote for McCain, my level of enthusiasm, as well as the reasons behind my vote, may be different from what you expect. When I look at the two major party nominees, my first inclination is to quote the great scholar and sage Jay Leno, who said, "If God had wanted us to vote, he would have given us candidates."

In order of importance to me, as I look at the political landscape, I am an evangelical Christian and an ideological conservative. As a conservative, I am most often comfortable with Republicans, though I am finding out the party is not all that comfortable with ideological conservatives. There is a difference between a party and an ideology. Parties exist, in my mind, to win elections, to bring people together so the party might become more powerful. A party's relationship to ideas, then, shifts depending on what is most likely to win votes. There are very few core beliefs inherent to a party, then, and even when those become politically problematic, they will be jettisoned. I keep my party at arm's length, always willing to critique it, often holding my nose as I vote for it.

I am an evangelical Christian. I believe that God's grace, through his son, Jesus Christ, has saved me from my sinful condition. I cannot earn that grace, nor can I resist it. I believe that all humans, like me, are sinners in need of God's redeeming work in their lives. For those who doubt the sinfulness of humans, let me make two recommendations: have children or pay attention to the news. In both cases, what is observed will shake anyone's belief in inherent human goodness. I believe the Bible is God's Holy Word and that it is authoritative in all it affirms. I also believe that as Christians we have both a spiritual and social responsibility as we interact with our surrounding culture. I believe the flaw of fundamentalism is its willingness to ignore our social and bodily needs, while the flaw of a more liberal Christianity, one that sees salvation as simply met physical and economic needs, is that it fails to recognize our basic spirituality and our need for redemption.

I grew up in a religious home, a charter member of what some might call the Christian right. I had a conversion experience when I was quite young, though I did not really grasp the meaning of that event until I was about eighteen years old. I was a product of religious education and frequent church attendance, but I was not seized by God's plan for my life until well into my college years. Since then, I have been consumed with learning more about my faith in general, but in particular, how my faith is supposed to change the way I look at the world. Given my profession, I have drifted into the political arena.

As I have wrestled with my faith, I have done my best to be open to a clearer understanding of political reality. I have tried to examine my own attachments and preferences, always seeking to filter them through Scripture when appropriate. I am attempting to avoid what natural law philosopher J. Budziszewski calls projective accommodation. This occurs when individuals approach scripture in an effort to justify their political positions. Under this method, Scripture becomes whatever it needs to be in order to confirm our own ideals. This is a common problem on the political right and the political left, members of which regularly wrap themselves in Scripture, abusing the Word of God in the process. This is especially true when Christ is used as a political tool. I am reminded of Tod Lindberg, who wrote recently:

"Jesus was neither a progressive Democrat bent on income redistribution nor a neo-conservative Republican promoting a radical democracy agenda. It is impossible to determine from the Gospels whether Jesus would favor or oppose private accounts for Social Security. Jesus did not address the question of what the optimal rate of taxation of capital gain is. In my view, mining the New Testament for insight into such questions is anachronistic--and worse than useless. In how many cases has someone with a political agenda consulted scripture only to have scripture reveal that his or her agenda is all wrong?" [Tod Lindberg, The Political Teachings of Jesus, 2007.]

In this spirit, then, here are some of my relevant political beliefs and how they may or may not relate to Scripture.

The Bible does not teach a particular political ideology, nor does it endorse a form of government or an economic system. When people argue that it does, they are almost always abusing Scripture for their own purposes. Let's take one quick example. Often, people on the religious left argue that Christ's Sermon on the Mount, in Matthew 5, where he says "blessed are the peacemakers," and later his admonition to "turn the other cheek," requires Christians to be strict pacifists. This would be like building an understanding of war on the book of Joshua, where God tells the Israelites to slaughter every man, woman, child, and beast because they occupied the Promised Land. Both are only parts of the whole of Scripture and the whole of Scripture must be examined before a doctrine is developed.

Christ's ministry was not inherently political. Christ came to right our relationship with God. While there may be serious political ramifications that flow from Christ's ministry, to equate him with a political figure is to ignore most of Scripture. If Christ had come to establish a political realm, why would Satan, when he tempted Christ, offer him political power? In other instances, when Christ was given the opportunity to make political statements, he refused to do so. To make Christ purely political is to demean his divinity.

Human beings, as I mentioned earlier, are inherently sinful. Sinfulness does not mean, however, hopelessness. Government can curb human behavior; it serves to make our world safer and better than it could be if government did not exist. The great mistake of many modern conservatives is their persistent belief that government is the problem behind our ills. At the same time, government cannot save souls. Those who think it can are guilty of the great mistake of modern liberalism, which is the persistent belief that government is the solution to our ills.

I am a conservative, but not only due to Scripture. I distrust government as a tool for social and economic change. Government is as likely to be a problem as it is to be a solution. This is because of human nature. James Madison, in Federalist Paper #51, wrote, "But what is government itself, but the greatest of all reflections on human nature? If men were angels, no government would be necessary." Our founders understood the potential and pitfalls of government. When I make political decisions, I lean toward candidates who share that understanding.

This has implications for my understanding of government and economics. We know from Scripture and our study of history that governments have a tendency toward despotism. This should influence our approach to dealing with other governments, via foreign policy, as well as our understanding of what government might accomplish domestically. I distrust any effort to pass policies aimed at changing the human condition. Efforts to rid the world of poverty, for example, are doomed to failure. Poverty exists due to sin in the world, so the poor will exist as long as humans remain sinful. This does not mean that poor people are sinful, but it does mean that the existence of poverty, of some being in want or in need, is a consequence of the fallenness of human nature.

Does this mean that we as Christians should wash our hands of this problem? Of course not. Scripture makes it clear we should be concerned with poverty. Scripture does NOT, however, determine how we should deal with it. Some Christians believe we should rely on government to intervene, particularly through poverty programs. Others are convinced that free markets, in combination with voluntary efforts, are the most effective way to help the poor. I favor the latter approach because of my study of history. However, it would be unwise, and without biblical support, for me to argue that Scripture requires this approach. This is a political question, not a doctrinal one. The doctrinal matter is clear: we should care for the poor. The best method to do so is one of politics. With that said, I do believe that capitalism assumes that self-interest is a driving force in human behavior. I think capitalism properly accounts for human nature far more than more centralized systems--like socialism or communism--or even softer forms of statism, like we have seen in Europe in the recent past.

Finally, I am also conservative socially. Scripture makes it clear, and civilizations throughout human history have agreed, that marriage is defined as between a man and a woman. Scripture also teaches that human beings are created in God's image. Not even sin changes that. I prefer policies, then, that recognize this basic sanctity of human life.

On the whole, John McCain comes closer to my preferences, and for these reasons, and a host of others, I will vote for John McCain.

As President Bush has struggled to regain his political footing since the recent elections, Republicans and Democrats alike are busily trying to replace him.

With more than a dozen candidates, party loyalists have a smorgasbord from which to choose. The most important part of the political context for the campaign is the black hole created by President Bush's unpopularity. Though he is in the final stages of his term, his presidency is still defining the environment.

Bush's most obvious political foundation is religious voters. Republican candidates are shaping their images to make those voters comfortable. Newt Gingrich goes on Focus on the Family to discuss his extra-marital affair in the 1990s; Mitt Romney reaches out to evangelicals who are skittish about his Mormonism; John McCain tries to reboot his relationships with the religious right by speaking at Liberty's graduation; Mike Huckabee, an ordained minister seeks to be like Bush, but too much so; Rudy Giuliani focuses on appointing conservative judges even though he is pro-choice.

Democrats continue to heap scorn on Bush, though they sense Bush's problems now provide them with the opportunity to control the entire federal government in 2008. In order to do that, they must appeal to moderates and dissatisfied Republicans.

This is where Howard Dean, he of the "I Have a Scream Speech" in Iowa, 2004, enters the story. Dean became chair of the Democratic National Committee, and one of his first emphases was to make the party competitive in all 50 states. In 2006, the strategy began to bear fruit when Democrats picked up House seats in places like North Carolina, governors mansions in Ohio and Tennessee, and Senate seats in Virginia and Missouri.

Dean understands, however, that in order for the party to be competitive, it must reach out to religious voters. However one thinks of America, any description of it that does not include religion is inadequate. America is a nation of many faiths and many faithful. The Democratic Party's presidential nominees are now cognizant of this.

John Edwards discusses what Jesus would think of American consumerism (though he recently built a 20,000 sq. ft. house!); Hillary Clinton has developed a southern drawl for her church speeches; Barack Obama makes faith (in the mold of Jim Wallis and Tony Compolo) the centerpiece of his campaign.

If anyone worried (or hoped) that with the end of Bush's term, religion would find itself marginalized, the presidential nomination process suggests otherwise. Both parties have made faith a factor for 2008.

Regardless of your political persuasion, your love of Republicans or Democrats, conservatives, or liberals, this is shaping up to be the most interesting mid-term election since 1994.

Republicans took control of Congress that year, but they have been unable to steadily increase their majorities. With the election of George W. Bush in 2000, the GOP gained full control of the elected branches of government for the first time in a half century.

Bush's popularity seemingly innoculated the GOP from the typical mid-term setbacks in 2002. The President's re-election in 2004 was a narrrow victory, but it ushered in strong Republican control of the U.S. Senate (55-45), and the GOP maintained a slim majority in the U.S. House.

For this upcoming cycle of elections, the Republicans are in much worse shape, at least as it stands now. The President's popularity rivals Harry Truman's in 1952, andd the war in Iraq is unpopular. To take control of Congress, the Democrats need to gain six Senate and 15 House seats.

Of the 33 Senate campaigns, 18 are Democratic seats, while 15 are Republican. Almost all of the Democrats' seats seem safe for now, with the possible exceptions of MD and NJ, which are leaning toward the Democrats. The Democrats likely have all of their current seats in hand, so they can focus most of their resources on picking-up Republican seats, of which they need six.

Of the 15 GOP seats contested eight appear to be safely Republican, which means the GOP have 48 seats in hand, which means they need two more to keep control of the Senate (the Republicans can keep control of the chamber with 50 seats due to the Vice President's ability to break ties).

Control of the Senate will hinge on the races in OH, VA, TN, MO, PA, MT, and RI. The Republicans need to win two of these elections, and the Democrats need to win six of the seven. This is a tall order for the Democrats, but not impossible.

Current polling suggests the Democrats are leading in OH, PA, and RI. Assuming they win those, they must pick up three more seats. Montana, Virginia, Tennessee, and Missouri all went strongly for Bush in 2004. (Missouri's presidential election was the closest, and Bush won that by 7 points.) Also, of those four, three feature incumbent Republican senators, and the only exception, Tennessee, has the current Republican majority leader (Sen. Frist) stepping down. George Bush beat John Kerry by fourteen percent in the Volunteer State in 2004.

There is a possibility, however slim, the Democrats could win TN, VA, MT, and MO. In Tennessee, the Democrats are firmly in control of the gubernatorial election, and Harold Ford, Jr., the Democratic Senate candidate, has sought to make in-roads with Republican moderates in middle Tennessee. Ford is positioning himself as pro-life, pro-gun, religious Democrat, and while it may not be enough to win an election, it might be.

In Virginia, George Allen, incumbent Republican, is facing James Webb, a novelist and former Secretary of the Navy in the Reagan Administration. Allen has botched his campaign, and his effort to paint Webb as a sexual deviant due to some risque passages in Webb's novels, may have backfired. Recent polls show the race tilting toward Webb.

In Montana, Republican incumbent Conrad Burns is connected, to the Jack Abramoff scandal, a swirling cauldron of misconduct that is swallowing Wahington's elite. In Missouri, Jim Talent, the Republican incumbent is in a heated contest with Claire McCaskill. Talent's hold is tenuous, and emotional issues, like the war and stem-cell research, are pivotal and make the race volatile.

While it may be unlikely, there seems some reason to believe the Democrats could gain control of the Senate. Then again, given the tight races, it may be equally likely the Republicans win in VA, TN, MT, and MO. What will happen? Tune in next Tuesday to find out for sure.

Well, I hope all of you conservative Christians, like me, are suitably chastened.  Mr. Kevin Phillips, who has been posing as a conservative and a Republican for nearly forty years, has finally unleashed the heavy weaponry against us.  He has called our bluff.  He has called us "theocrats," and, he argues that our theocratic tendencies are meshing with the debt industry and the oil industry to bring about the downfall of our civilization.  Well, at least we have set our goals high.  Phillips' argument, in the Washington Post, begins thusly:

"Today, a leading power such as the United States approaches theocracy when it meets the conditions currently on display: an elected leader who believes himself to speak for the Almighty, a ruling political party that represents religious true believers, the certainty of many Republican voters that government should be guided by religion and, on top of it all, a White House that adopts agendas seemingly animated by biblical worldviews."

Let's be clear, then.  We are approaching theocracy if the White House adopts agendas animated by a biblical worldview and if many Republicans are convinced that government should be guided by religion.  (The first two we can ignore.  Has Bush ever claimed to speak for God?  Or, what Republican has claimed that it is the Party of true believers?)  Here, Mr. Phillips shows his ignorance of religion and of the biblical worldview.  Any truly devout believer holds that religion to be relevant to all of life, including government and public policy.  If we adhered to a faith that had nothing to say about those matters, we would have private faith, and we would be required to compartmentalize our lives.  This is an insult to religion, not just conservative Christians.

Ultimately, Phillips' charge of theocracy is tired.  While it displays my "fuddy-duddy"ness, I am of the opinion that words matter.  Theocracy, by any reasonable defintion, involves church officials, usually ministers or priests, exercising direct political authority.  If it means what Phillips implies, a religiously animated public policy, than, by all means, we are a theocracy, just as the Dutch were, the Spaniards, and, heaven forbid, we have been for quite some time.  After all, religion has animated many of America's great social movements--abolitionism and civil rights included.

Phillips does trot out one additional argument against conservative Christians, but it is, alas, nothing new.  He argues that American foreign policy has shifted since 9/11 due, not to the war on terrorism, which he blithely ignores, but to the threat posed to "Big Oil," and also because it fits so nicely with our "end-times theology."  So, our pre-millennial views of the end of history are driving the White House, it seems, to seek to dominate the Middle East for those evil Oil barons and to initiate the eschaton.  We are, through our actions, then, hastening Christ's return by deposing Saddam, and by rooting out al qaeda operatives in Baghdad and elsewhere.  My, we are very clever.  (Not to mention that under this scenario, we might be the Anti-Christ?)

The cold reality is that facts can easily explain what is happening in America (Those facts, though, are not nearly as titillating as Mr. Phillips' conspiracy theories, and pesky facts would not help him sell his recent book, American Theocracy: The Perils and Politics of Radical Religion, Oil, and Borrowed Money in the 21st Century.)  America was attacked by ruthless terrorists in 2001.  Since then, our President, who had previously shown little interest in foreign affairs, has been obsessed by defeating world-wide terrorism.  Ultimately, he has chosen, when in doubt, to use force when there is a possibility that a government might aid terrorists by providing them with WMDs.  Unfortunately for Mr. Phillips, a preponderance of those governments are in the Middle East, and, yes, some of them have access to oil.  In reality, America would be crippled by a massive reduction in our oil supply.  The economic turmoil would be extreme, and while I do not think it motivates our actions, it is a reasonable consideration when examining the geo-political situation.

The notion that eschatology drives Bush is almost as silly as the notion that it drives American Christians.  My exposure to evangelicalism, of many stripes, suggests that most Christians don't even know what the word means, and only a handful can even articulate a coherent view of the subject.  Given Bush's often mangled philosophy and theology, I would say it is possible he doesn't even have a sophisticated view of the subject.

The most fascinating thing about Phillips' piece, I think, is his assumption of the power exercised by Christian conservatives.  While I suppose it is fair to say President Bush is a Christian, I have no real idea how conservative he really is--either religiously or politically.  Bush's administration has had a few prominent religious conservatives (Ashcroft chief among them, and Michael Gerstner), but it is, in no way, a stronghold.  Just rattle off a list of Bush's appointments--Christie Whitman, Alberto Gonzales, Porter Goss, FBI head Mueller, Norton, Norm Mineta, Don Rumsfeld, Dick Cheney, C.J. Roberts, Don Evans, Andy Card... This is not exactly an honor roll for Christian conservatives.  With almost all of those choices there would have been clear alternatives that would have shown our "power," but they did not happen.  Of course, we don't even need to mention Bush's decision to ignore abortion and gay rights (except for during the election as a sop), as well as a host of issues critical to Christians.

In spite of what Phillips thinks, Christianity in America, even within Evangelicalism, is incredibly diverse.  That label includes Jim Wallis AND James Dobson, Chuck Colson AND Ron Sider, Jerry Falwell AND Tony Compolo.  There is nothing like a completely coherent voting bloc of evangelical voters, certainly not like that of African Americans for the Democratic party.  Within evangelicalism, there is disagreement over the environment, economics, and foreign policy (does everyone forget that some of Calvin's faculty PROTESTED Bush's appearance at graduation?), not to mention the old debates on theology.

Phillips soldiers on, though, to claim that the rise of the religious right will push America over the civilizational brink.  He forgets no cliche when, throughout his article, he connects us (sometimes indireclty, to be fair) to the Puritans, the Inquisition, the South before the Civil War, and Mormon Utah.  I suppose he forgot South African Apartheid, and I think he was a bit lazy not to connect us to the Crusades, the Meunster Revolt, or, perhaps, the Fulan Gong.  But, when your world is not constrained by facts, or by reason, there is no end to the suppositions you can make.  In the end, Mr. Phillips, even when he does not enlighten, at least manages to entertain, and I suppose that is something.

George Will, in typical fashion, smites those who hang on every journalistic word regarding the climate.

The painful truth, regardless of the recent Evangelical Call to Action on the climate, is that the science surrounding the existence global warming is far from unanimous.  Even if it were, there is much debate about the proximate cause of the warming.  Again, even if we knew the cause was the production of man-made greenhouse gases, it is impossible to know how a change in our behavior would impact the problem.  At some point, this becomes a matter of marginal returns and opportunity costs.  Let's assume that by spending $1 trillion to address global warming (reconfiguring our energy habits would likely cost much more), we have some impact and the earth cools a degree or two.  What is benefit, if there is one, for this reduction?  Would spending an additional trillion give us more benefit?  More importantly, is there a better way to spend that money that would allow us to help those who suffer (I am not sure who suffers, to be honest) from global warming?

These are the sorts of uncomfortable questions few of our policy makers and journalists ask.  Instead, they travel along their merry way, latching onto whatever is hot at the moment, before onto the next great crisis.